


Converse

by whiteroses77



Series: Well Versed [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after their liaison in Transverse, Bruce, and Clark find themselves in each other’s company again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Converse 1/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,833  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Months after their liaison in Transverse, Bruce, and Clark find themselves in each other’s company again.

~B~

Bruce Wayne mingled through the crowds of partygoers. He stopped and chatted with the businessmen about meaningless topics, and flirted with the Metropolis’ socialites and then he moved onto the next crowd of businessmen and socialites. He took a flute of champagne as the waiter walked past with a tray. He raised it to his lips, the liquid touched his lips but he didn’t sip, and he brought the glass down again. Then he carried it around like the prop it was. He remembered the last time he had actually drank alcohol. It was the night of Oliver Queen’s party at his beach house. He remembered being so surprised and unsettled by Clark Kent’s presence there, that when Clark had offered him his glass of wine while they were gazing at the moon from the sandy shore, he’d just accepted it and swigged it down.

He smiled at the memory. Actually, the host of that party was here somewhere about. He glanced around trying to spot him amongst the other businessmen. After a few moments, Bruce found Oliver in the crowd. There was a raven haired man standing next to Oliver who happened to glance his way. Their gazes locked through his black rimmed glasses. 

Bruce harrumphed at this unexpected turn of events and then walked over curiously. His ex-lover looked extremely sexy in a tuxedo. He thought the glasses added to the look. The blond billionaire saw him arrive and smiled in greeting. “Hey Bruce it’s been a while.”

He smirked smarmily, “Not that long Ollie. Did I ever tell you that I loved your beach house?”

Oliver smiled proudly, “Don’t get out there much but it’s a good place to get away from things when the mood takes you.” Then Oliver motioned with his flute of champagne, “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Bruce Wayne – Clark Kent, Clark – Bruce.”

Clark adjusted his glasses almost nervously, and stuttered, “I…it’s nice to meet you Mr Wayne.”

He tilted his head, and said suavely, “It’s a pleasure Mr Kent, and call me Bruce please.”

He watched his clandestine ex-lover swallow hard, he was almost blushing, “Okay, Mr… I mean Bruce.”

For a moment, Bruce wondered what Clark’s game was but then it dawned on him. This is what Clark had meant that day sitting in his pickup truck in Smallville, with his flustered response to Bruce’s proposition. This is what he meant about ‘turning into his self’. He instinctively went into full Brucie mode in response. Bruce grinned widely. He glanced at Oliver and asked haughtily, “Now where did you meet this… delightful… person?”

Clark narrowed his gaze subtly at him in scorn. Oliver patted Clark’s shoulder friendly-like, “Me and Clark go way back. Don’t we Clark?”

Bruce found his gaze drawn to where another man was touching what he’d had a claim to. He took a breath and dragged his gaze away, and he said, “Do tell?”

Oliver supplied, “I was dating a friend of his, wasn’t I.” he said to Clark, “…and we just… got on, I guess it was that farm boy charm.”

He remembers Clark telling him that Oliver liked Clark’s company to make these kinds of parties bearable. He could understand the dislike of such events. However, he was unfathomably annoyed at the familiarity, he was in no doubt they were only friends, but it didn’t stop the touch of envy he felt. Bruce turned to Clark and said flippantly, “You’re a farmer, what in god’s green earth are you doing here. Did your tractor break down outside or something?”

He saw Clark and Oliver exchange looks. He saw annoyance on Oliver’s face. He knew Green Arrow’s reputation and how hot headed he could be when he thought he had a cause, but Clark shook his head at his friend subtly, telling him not to make a scene while coming to his defence.

Clark met his gaze straight on, “I was a farmer, but now I’m a journalist, Mr Wayne.”

“Oh you write for the farmer’s almanac?” he jibed.

He saw a twinkle in Clark’s eyes, and then Bruce felt a vague sensation like a feather crossing his lips and he reached up and touched them. He frowned, and shook it off. He met Clark’s gaze, but spoke to Ollie, “I didn’t know you had a pet project Ollie.”

Clark countered, “You’re a very uncouth individual aren’t you, Mr Wayne?”

Bruce taunted, “Uncouth, what would a hayseed know?”

Suddenly he felt the odd sensation again, it tickled, and Bruce pressed his lips together. Oliver piped up, “He means you’re being rude, Bruce.”

He rolled his eyes and lifted his glass, “Well excuse me. I’ll leave you and your pet alone I’m just going to get myself another drink. Bye Ollie, see you around farm boy.”

He turned and walked off, wobbled a little for effect. He smiled to himself as he went. He found someone to chat to but he kept an eye on Clark. As he talked, he felt the feather on his lips again, and he frowned again at the feeling. He met his ex-lover’s gaze across the room, and Clark flashed him a knowing grin.

That’s when he put two and two together. ‘The son of a bitch…’ 

He saw Clark wander away from Oliver as his friend spoke to someone else, and Bruce set off to cut him off. As they met again in the middle of the function room, Bruce demanded lowly, “You’ve been kissing me haven’t you?”

Clark smirked, “Took you long enough to catch on.”

He tensed his jaw, “I don’t expect to be molested in the middle of…”

“Didn’t you like it?” he teased.

He admitted, “It was an odd sensation, but it wasn’t bad, might’ve been better if I’d known.”

Clark deferred and muttered, “No wonder you was okay about it being no strings attached between us, from what I’ve heard you’re a real Casanova.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze at him sternly. “You keeping poor little Ollie company again?” he sneered.

Clark peered at him through his glasses. “Are you jealous of my friend?” 

“Jealous I’m not jealous.” he scoffed.

“I think you are.” Clark taunted.

“I’m not jealous.” He quietly insisted.

“Well you shouldn’t be.” His ex-lover told him.

He knew it was true but he questioned, “Why not?”

He gave him a vicious smile, “Because you’re Bruce Wayne.” Bruce stared at him incredulously. His ex-lover smirked, and informed him, “I spent the night with a guy called Wayne Pennyworth.”

He squinted at him, and then he felt that sensation again on his lips. Bruce pointed his finger, “You… you…”

Clark grinned at him mischievously. “I better get back to Oliver.”

They both turned and saw they were being observed across the room. Oliver frowned deeply at them. Bruce murmured, “He looks suspicious, what’re you going to tell him?”

His playful antagonist shrugged, “I’ll just tell him you were being a prick and an asshole again.”

Bruce murmured silkily, “Those two things sound appealing right about now.”

Clark rolled his eyes, and groaned, “Bruce.”

Then Bruce watched him walk away back to Oliver’s side. He glanced around at the people enjoying themselves. It was a bad idea but until he and Clark could be alone, he wasn’t going to be one of them.

~S~

Clark strolled back over to Oliver. His friend was still frowning at him. Clark tried to portray a neutral composure. When he reached him his friend and crime fighting buddy asked, “What was that all about?”

He pressed his lips together and said casually, “The guy’s drunk that’s all. I’ve had to deal with guys like that being jerks my whole life.”

Oliver tilted his head, “Is that a jab me huh?”

Clark smiled, “No, you’re not a jerk you’re just very opinionated, and a tad arrogant.”

His confident friend chuckled, “I guess we’ve had our clashes over the years huh?”

“Huh-huh but you’re a good guy, that’s why we’re friends.”

Oliver nodded, “You’re right about that.”

He glanced at Oliver’s flute of champagne, and joked, “Wow how many of them have you had.”

His blond friend smirked, “Not enough to stand this crowd for long.” he glanced over at Bruce as he flirted with a woman. Oliver motioned at the other billionaire, “You’re right about Bruce, it’s the booze because normally he’s a decent guy. He just doesn’t seem to have found his calling in life that’s all. The never-ending supply of cash doesn’t help.”

Clark swallowed as he gazed across at his ex-lover. He wished he could share his inside knowledge with Oliver. Tell him Bruce had found his calling, the meaning in his life just as Oliver and himself had. That he matched them, that he matched Clark. If it weren’t for the loyalty that he felt for his ex-lover deserved or not, he’d have shared with his friend Batman’s secrets. 

He observed across the room as Bruce reached out and played with a lock of the pretty socialite’s hair. He saw Bruce grin and the woman laugh, charmed. Clark swallowed hard. It must be the Bruce Wayne act that he’d witnessed earlier. It was an act and it was none of his business. There was no need for the jealousy that tickled his senses. 

He tore his gaze away and returned it to Oliver. But moments later, his gaze drifted back, his hearing zeroed in as Bruce murmured, “Follow me.”

He saw Bruce take the woman’s hand and then lead her out of the function room. Clark’s eyes widened with disbelief. He couldn’t, could he, not here right now with Clark here, not after flirting with him moments ago. He wasn’t really that much of an asshole. 

Clark’s jaw tensed. Oliver asked, “What is it?”

He looked back at his friend. He couldn’t explain and so he made excuses, “I’ve got to go, something…”

Misunderstanding the situation, Oliver was already nodding, “Go… go.”

He hated the pretence, but there was no way around it. He asked, “Will you be alright?”

Oliver was still nodding, “I’ll probably be gone on home by the time you get back though.”

He said, “I’ll say goodnight now then.”

Then Clark turned and hurried away through the same exit Bruce had taken a minute before. He strode down a long carpeted corridor. Along the way, he ground his teeth together unfathomably annoyed.

As he opened another door, he seethed to himself, “You better not be…”

“Better not be what?”

Clark came to a halt and found a solitary Bruce Wayne, casually leaning back against the corridor wall waiting. Clark glanced around and asked roughly, “Where is she?”

Bruce tilted his head, “Who?”

He tensed his jaw, “You know who.”

His ex-lover chuckled, “You mean that sweet dear who didn’t know where the restrooms are in this place?”

His smile was sharp, as he approached him, “You tricked me?”

“It worked. You couldn’t leave Ollie’s side fast enough.” Bruce said smugly.

“Last time we met at a party you wouldn’t leave it for me.” He reminded him. “Why is this one different?” 

Bruce murmured, “It’s been too long, Clark.”

Clark uttered, “Those were your rules not mine.”

“Yeah they are but I’m thinking about bending them right this moment.”

Clark licked his lips, and groaned, “What exactly do you want from me?”

Bruce’s mouth twisted into a leer and began… “Option one…”

At that leer, Clark was repulsed by the arrogance to think he would go along with this again, he muttered, “Not a chance.” 

Before he could finish the sentence Bruce’s mouth was taking his mouth hard and his own attraction, his own desire quashed the unease he felt, and he groaned and returned his kiss ardently. 

They kissed deeply, Bruce’s hands cupped his head, and he licked into Clark’s mouth. Clark responded by pushing Bruce against the wall firmly. He reflexively thrust his crotch against Bruce’s and one of Bruce’s hands left his head and reached down and grabbed Clark’s ass. He was getting so turned on but Clark pulled back and murmured against his lips snidely, “You want my cock up your ass again?”

He expected, was aiming for an insulted response but his ex-lover moaned into his mouth, “Yeah.”

As a rumble left Clark’s throat, Bruce’s fingers threaded through his hair, and grasped a handful. Clark kissed him again deeply. 

Further, down the corridor they both heard the double doors open. He pulled back. A few partygoers on their way home made their way past. Clark and Bruce locked gazes and Clark could see hesitation in Bruce’s eyes. He remembered that time they’d met on that beach and the way Bruce had walked away. He saw those same thoughts there in those eyes now. 

However, as they were left alone again, Bruce said, “Meet me later.”

Clark swallowed hard. It was probably a mistake, he knew it, but the idea of being with him again was too tempting. He nodded in agreement. He asked, “I guess you’re staying in Metropolis… your hotel?”

He shook his head, “No not there.”

He suggested, “My apartment, then…?”

“Okay there.” he nodded.

He half-smiled at the confirmation, “Okay there.”

Then Bruce grabbed Clark, pulled him into his arms, and kissed him. Clark responded eagerly.

~B~

It was later in the evening, he’d run an errand. He’d made a procurement and now he was where he’d wanted to be all night. He knocked, and Clark opened the door of his apartment and let him inside. Like Bruce, Clark was still wearing his tuxedo except his tie was undone. He smiled and said, “You made it.”

Then he led him into his living space. Bruce knew he was making one of those mistakes that later on he wasn’t sure if he’d change it if he could. Then Clark leaned in and kissed him sweetly. He murmured, “It’s nice to see you again.” Then Clark groaned, “Damn.”

“What?”

He told him shyly, “I forgot to get some… uh lube, and obviously we need some.”

Bruce’s eyes glanced around taking in their situation and the layout of the apartment and he conceded, “I suppose we do.”

Clark leaned in and kissed him. Clark lifted his lips away from his mouth. He whispered, “Suppose we do.”

But then Bruce reached into his pocket and withdrew a tube, “That was my errand before.”

Clark appeared taken aback and then a little embarrassed. But Bruce couldn’t care less right now, he was just happy that Clark was as eager for this as he was.

Bruce headed in the direction that he assessed the bedroom was. 

Clark grasped Bruce’s wrist and pulled him away from the bedroom. “Not so fast.” He murmured seductively, “Do you want a drink, and make ourselves comfortable before we…?” 

He didn’t have the inclination for formalities or niceties. “This isn’t a date, Clark.”

His erstwhile lover’s eyes widened subtly and he blinked several times. He asked, “I thought maybe…” he fidgeted, “I thought you might stay the night.”

He shook his head, “I can’t.”

Clark swallowed hard, and asked roughly, “You mean this is just a fuck?”

“It is what it is.” He stated.

Behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes closed and he winced, “Damn.”

He pinched his lips, seeing Clark’s reactions, he explained, “Bruce Wayne shouldn’t be here. It’s a mistake that he is.”

“A mistake right, it’s a mistake before we’ve even done anything.” Clark asked his voice rough with emotion and annoyance.

“I can’t believe that I have to explain this to you.” He said wearily.

Clark narrowed his gaze, the light of realisation there, “Bruce Wayne being here is the mistake. He wasn’t part of the options?”

He shook his head. He said, “I forgot myself and I’ve crossed the line tonight. I can’t make it worse by being here in the morning.”

Then Clark glanced around his apartment and then cleared his throat, and said dispassionately, “You better get going then, if you’re quick you can pretend you were never here at all.”

Bruce studied the man before him, and then he heaved out a sigh. He was disappointed but he understood Clark’s reaction. Everything about Clark Kent told him he was the kind of man who needed everything straight down the line, and a no flowers fuck wasn’t his style. He remembered his attitude the night they had spent together before. Now he realised how lucky he had been to have able to get Clark to agree and spend the night with him all those months ago.

Bruce walked over to the door and left Clark Kent’s apartment without looking back. As he walked down the hall, and down the steps, and he whispered under his breath, “I’m sorry, Clark.”

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Converse 2/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,600  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce comes up with a solution to their situation but will Clark agree?

~S~

At the end of the workday a few days later, Clark was slipping his overcoat on over his broad shoulders. He eyed Lois still at her side of their double desk. He inquired, “You’re not pulling an all-nighter are you?”

His desk mate snorted, “Not tonight, you know yourself how slow the news is lately.” She glanced at him, “What’re you doing tonight, wild party, midnight orgy…?”

He shook his head and fixed his collar, and sniped, “You got a hot date tonight…?”

Lois rolled her eyes and returned to her computer screen. Clark smiled slyly, “Another night with guitar hero?”

His friend shook her head, and then said over her shoulder, “Bring some beers and I’ll let you have a go.”

Clark grinned and said, “Maybe, if it’s a slow night.” Then he said, “See you later.” 

Lois said over her shoulder, “Night Smallville.”

Then he descended in the elevator. He crossed the lobby, and exited through the rotating door, out onto the city street. He turned in the direction of his apartment block and began walking. Sometimes he just liked slowing down a bit, and walking home gave him a sense of the city and people he had vowed to protect. 

He hadn’t gotten very far. He was just passing the café on the same street as the Daily Planet building, when someone stepped into his path. Clark came to a halt. He met familiar eyes, and an even more familiar mouth that quirked into a tentative smile. Clark glanced over his clothes, his blue jeans and smiled reflexively at the return of his suede boots. Clark met his gaze again and then he said wryly, “Wayne Pennyworth, I thought I was never going to see you again.”

He nodded in confirmation of his words and then he motioned to the café, “You want to get a coffee?”

He wasn’t sure of his reasons for his coming here but Clark could guess. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He nodded along, “Sure.”

They got a table and then a waitress came and took their order. Clark adjusted his glasses. Bruce watched him. No not Bruce he wasn’t Bruce today, he was the dark haired handsome stranger he met in Smallville, the stranger he hadn’t seen in over a year. Clark pursed his lips and asked, “So Wayne, it’s been a while, what have you been doing with yourself?”

He saw a flicker of something, could’ve been annoyance but then his companion smiled easily. “Well Clark… I’ve been busy. You remember I told you about my friend…”

“Your special friend, yeah, did you help him like you wanted to?”

“I did what I could.”

Clark nodded along, “Did you ever tell him how you feel about him?”

Wayne smirked and tipped his head at him in silent acknowledgement. “Actually I didn’t…” The waitress brought their drinks. Wayne tried to reach for his wallet, but Clark paid for them instead. When they were alone again, Wayne cleared his throat, “I uh I missed my opportunity.”

“Did you?” Clark inquired.

He chuckled, and took a sip of his beverage. He put down his cup and said, “Actually something else happened between us.” Clark raised a provocative eyebrow, and Wayne murmured, “He kissed me.”

Clark laughed lightly. He didn’t know if he should be annoyed or impressed by his talent at separating his experiences. With his presence here, and what it implied, he didn’t know if he should be put off or turned on by it. He asked, “He kissed you, how did that make you feel?”

“You like asking questions don’t you Mr Reporter?”

He shrugged and drank some of his coffee. He heard the clicking of her heels moments before they felt her presence next to their table. They glanced up at the same time. Lois was standing over them, purse over her shoulder, and a frown crinkling her brow. She squinted at his companion and asked, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Wayne ran his hand through his soft hair, and met Clark’s gaze. in response Clark cleared his throat and introduced, “Lois, this is Wayne. Wayne this is my friend and sometimes writing partner.”

His companion’s eyes twinkled at him, half thankful half amused he was going along with his charade. Wayne tilted his head in acknowledgment and smiled politely, and drawled, “Hi there, Lois.”

His perceptive friend raised her eyebrow, and questioned, “How do you know Clark?”

Clark met his gaze again and then explained, “We met in Smallville, Lois.”

She checked out his blue jeans and suede boots and then she snorted, “Farm boys.” 

Wayne grinned, “How’d you guess?”

Lois chuckled and then she turned to Clark, “I guess you’re busy after all huh?”

His companion nodded, “That’s right.”

Clark shot him a glare, but smiled at his friend, “I guess.”

Lois smiled grimly, “I’ll see you in the morning then.” She nodded and told Wayne, “You still look familiar.”

But then she turned away and returned across the street. Then she was gone. Wayne raised a brow at him. Clark glowered, “I don’t enjoy lying to my friends.”

“You must be used to it?”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

Wayne sighed, and said quietly, “I came to talk about us.”

Clark’s eyes widened, and then he huffed out, “Us what about us?”

His ex-lover licked his lips nervously and then he said, “These are our choices… we finish our drinks and we pretend we are just two men who shared a table at a café and we go our separate ways again.”

He glanced around the street and back at Clark. Clark asked curiously, “Or…?”

“Or… we go to a small hotel, I pay for a room in cash…” he met his gaze intensely, “…we spend the night together, the whole night and then in the morning we go our separate ways and carry on with our normal lives…”

Clark studied him closely. He saw hesitation, maybe a little fear, and some excitement that wasn’t about sex. He asked again, “Or…?”

Wayne swallowed hard and added, “Or… or those other guys we know stay out of it…”

He frowned, “Other guys, you mean Superman and Batman?”

His companion nodded, “Yeah them… and Bruce Wayne…”

Clark’s frown got even deeper, as he asked incredulously, “What are you saying?”

He swallowed again, and he looked even more agitated, “I’m saying the third option is for you and Wayne Pennyworth to…”

“Have a fuck?” he questioned loudly.

A woman sitting at the table next to them glanced at him with appal. He ignored her and focused on the man proposing this… thing. Wayne amended, “Date.” Clark’s eyes widened like saucers, and his companion amended again, “Go steady.”

He was so shocked that he laughed out loud. Wayne stared at him in dismay. Clark stood up and walked off in a daze. Footfalls rushed after him and a hand caught his arm. He stopped, and turned and met serious eyes. 

“Clark, listen…” 

“Listen to craziness?”

Wayne growled, “Don’t you get it, what I’m offering you?”

He shook his head, “You’re offering me a whole lot of headaches, heartaches, and pretending. I can’t be bothered dealing with all that.”

Wayne bowed his head and breathed deeply, he said in a hushed voice, “Batman can’t risk his mission being distracted. Bruce Wayne is a chore. He’s what I have to endure. He’s camouflage so Batman can continue his mission. But Wayne Pennyworth can be…”

He looked up and met his gaze, intense emotions there in his eyes. “I just thought maybe Wayne Pennyworth could have something…”

Clark swallowed at the intensity and longing he saw there. He opened his mouth but didn’t know what to call him, this man beseeching him, asking for this chance to have something other… other than his cause. Wayne uttered, “I want this, you, and this is the only way I can to let myself have it.”

He knew how he was feeling; he knew what it was like to be trapped by your own secrets, and personas, trapped by your duty. That’s why he’d been tempted by the one night stand offered to him in Smallville a year ago, and why he’d agreed to it months later against his better judgement, why he’d almost settled for tryst, a fuck a few days ago. Clark really did like him, really liked him. He said softly, “I guess we could make a go of it.”

Those intense eyes widened and he saw disbelief there. He was sure he’d been expecting a negative response. Clark smiled, “Let’s go back to my place, Wayne.”

Wayne gazed at him and then caressed Clark’s cheek, “You are so special.”

Clark shook his head, “No, Clark Kent’s just an average guy.”

He nodded jerkily, “Okay. Then so is Wayne Pennyworth.” 

Then he leaned in and their lips met gently. Desire, trepidation, excitement, and a little contentment welled up inside Clark. He pulled away and smiled at his… what had he said, steady? He smiled at his boyfriend, and his boyfriend smiled back. 

Clark grasped his hand and then glanced around and found the nearest alley, and he led him down it. Wayne glanced around the passageway and asked, “What are we doing?”

He grinned, and he pulled him to him and kissed him passionately. 

Despite his protests, Wayne returned his kiss ardently. Then Clark pushed him body to body against the wall. Wayne groaned in response. “Damn you’re so fucking good at this, Clark.”

Clark let his hands grab Wayne’s ass, and Clark murmured, “Wrap your legs around me.”

His boyfriend groaned again but he did as he was told, and wrapped his legs around his waist as Clark lifted him up. Clark grinned into his mouth, “Good boy.”

Then he stepped away from the wall, and said, “Keep your eyes shut.”

Wayne whispered, with a smile on his lips, “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”

Clark kissed him and laughed into his mouth, and then he squeezed his ass. Wayne writhed against him, grinding his crotch against him. His lover groaned, “Shit, it doesn’t matter you can fuck me anywhere you want.”

He whispered, “That’s good to know, but I prefer my bed.”

Wayne pulled back and said, “We better get going then.”

“Going where?” he said impishly.

Wayne frowned and then glanced around, and then he exclaimed, “Shit!”

Clark chuckled and let him down to the floor, and Wayne’s eyes darted around Clark’s apartment recognising it. His boyfriend said in wonder, “This is your place…”

He replied, “Yeah.”

Wayne’s jaw tensed, and then he demanded, “I thought we agreed that Superman wouldn’t be involved in this.”

“We did.” He acknowledged.

“So what the hell is this?”

Clark rolled his eyes, and headed for the coatrack near the door, he grumbled, “I don’t know who you think Wayne Pennyworth is, but Clark Kent is this, he has abilities.”

Wayne followed him to the door, he was incredulous, “I’m sure you don’t normally flaunt your powers in front of people.”

Clark removed his overcoat and hanged it up. “I don’t, most of the time I pretend I don’t have them…” he turned, and removed his glasses and put them on the sideboard near the door, as he usually did. Then he walked back over to his boyfriend, got in close and murmured, “But when I’m with someone who knows that I have them it’s natural to use them.” He kissed him softly, “And you know I have them. So deal with it.” 

Wayne muttered, “So now I know.”

Clark met his gaze seriously, and intensely, “Now you know.”

Wayne swallowed hard. He asked, “Can you put your glasses back on?”

He frowned and asked, “Why?”

He gazed at him and then glanced away. He said roughly, “Like I said Kal-El is supposed to stay out of this.”

“I am Kal-El.”

He nodded without looking his way, “Yes but for this to work, you’re supposed to be Clark Kent.”

“I am Clark Kent.”

His boyfriend winced and returned his gaze to look at him, “I know but…”

He started to realise what he was wanting, however he met his gaze seriously. “If you want to do this, do it this way you’re going to have to do the pretending yourself. I do enough pretending out there, I’m not living an act in my own home.”

He watched his jaw tense and relax and tense again and his eyes were full of turmoil and an inner battle that waged inside him, finally he uttered, “You’re not going to make this easy are you?”

He sighed, “I’m trying to make it easier, this is my sanctuary it could be yours too.” He said meaningfully, “You want something more than your duty, let me be it, let this place be where you can let your guard down. Let me in.”

The man in front of him gazed at him with wonderment. Clark gave him an encouraging smile. 

Slowly a smile crept onto his face. 

Clark asked, “Yes?”

He nodded.

Clark tilted his head and asked, “So no glasses?”

“No glasses.” He agreed.

They held each other’s gazes as they leaned in, and they came together slowly and then their kisses grew in their passion. 

He pulled back, and smiled and said, “Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable.”

His boyfriend looked troubled. Clark grinned, and revealed, “You know people who go steady with each other don’t just have sex together.”

Wayne looked bemused, and said wryly, “Okay then.” and then he turned away. He went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Clark followed him in and sat down next to him. He observed him sitting there awkwardly and out of his depth in this ordinary situation. 

Clark asked, “You’re staying the night right?”

Bruce turned and gazed at him a little surprised, then he nodded, “Of course, but I have to shoot off early in the morning.”

Clark smirked at him. Then he left him there and super-speeded to go fetch something, when he returned milliseconds later, Clark smiled cheekily, knowing his boyfriend had no clue he had just gone anywhere. He showed him the tube of lube, and the condoms he’d acquired. Wayne raised a questioning eyebrow and Clark shrugged, “I had to get them, we need them for later.” 

“Later…?” he asked wonderingly.

“Yeah.”

Cautiously but eagerly he asked, “How much later?” 

Clark laughed and then he reached for him and pulled Wayne over into his lap. Wayne looked startled to be manhandled so easily. Clark grinned at him and then he leaned in and kissed him for what felt like the first of many, many more.

He moaned in response, “Oh Wayne.”

His lover groaned and then he grumbled, “Damn don’t call me that.”

Clark pulled back and raised his eyebrow in question. 

“Fuck, just call me Bruce… damn it just call me Bruce.” he told him groaningly.

He grinned in reaction. He leaned up and caught his mouth and he moaned softly into it, “Oh Bruce.”

Bruce just hummed into his mouth with satisfaction.

Then Clark pulled back and asked, “Can I call you Bruce all the time then?”

“I guess so.” Bruce huffed.

Clark replied, “Good you can call me Clark.”

“I call you Clark anyway.” Bruce said sarcastically.

Clark laughed and he kissed him again. 

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Converse 3/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,779  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: It’s the next morning, is everything still right with the world?

~B~

The next morning, Bruce stared straight ahead at the ceiling above Clark’s bed. He could admit it to himself he was scared. He was tempted to finish this now before it could drag him further in. Walk away, go home, and concentrate on being Batman…

He turned his head on the pillow, his gaze met Clark’s eyes that were bright, and they sparkled at him from across the white fluffy pillows. 

He returned his gaze to the ceiling. However, he’d tried to walk away before, and Clark Kent had been a nagging thought in the back of his mind, an echo within his body for all these months. Each interaction had made the longing worse.

Bruce was roused out of his thoughts. He glanced over as Clark slipped from within the sheets, got off the bed and walked naked into the bathroom. 

Clark knew who he was and accepted it. There were no worries that he wouldn’t or couldn’t accept his way of life because he had the same kind of life. He understood the need for discretion, the drive to action, the exhilaration of the fight, and the need to do it. He understood him. Bruce was the one who had come up with the solution, the way they could have what they wanted. Give Clark what he needed. 

So Bruce could have what he wanted… 

And what he wanted was in that bathroom.

~*~

The shower was running, and Clark was under the stream of water, washing away the signs of last night on him. Bruce stepped into the shower under the spray with him. He ran his hand down Clark’s wet muscular back gently. Clark’s head darted around with surprise. Bruce kissed his bare shoulder, “Just me.”

Clark turned around fully, and met his gaze through the stream of water. He told him, “I thought you might’ve gone.”

He leaned in and asked, “Can you read my mind?”

His lover smiled and said, “Not literally.”

“You’ve got good instincts then.”

Clark whispered, “So you were thinking about it?”

Bruce leaned in, and rested his forehead against Clark’s, the water cascaded over them as he whispered back, “I’m still here.”

His lover tilted his head and slowly searched for Bruce’s mouth, and Bruce let it be found. They wrapped each other in their embraces and kissed each other under the spray of water.

He wasn’t backing out of this.

~*~

Bruce threaded his fingers through Clark’s wet tousles and he kissed his jaw, his throat tasted the wet flesh. Clark moaned and arched his throat for him. Bruce growled softly against his throat and then he ran his hands all the way down his lover’s back and cupped his ass. His mouth explored and he went lower, kissed his broad chest, and licked over a nipple. Clark groaned in response so he licked over the other one. 

He returned to Clark’s mouth, open, wet, and eager, his tongue battled with his tongue. With every moan and hum, Bruce got harder and he pressed his body, his crotch to Clark’s. His lover murmured into his mouth, “You hard for me?”

Bruce groaned and he stepped back and he pumped his cock firmly showing it off. Clark gazed down at it admiringly. Bruce’s gaze found Clark’s own hard cock. He smiled smugly and he leaned in and kissed him again. Then he turned Clark around and pressed him against the shower wall. Clark glanced back at him and then braced his hands. 

His cock flexed in response, he ran his hands over Clark’s muscled back appreciatively, and then he took hold of Clark’s hips and slid his hard cock through the valley of delectable flesh. Clark groaned at the contact, and so Bruce thrust against him, felt his cock head slid over his asshole. He did it slow and languorously enjoying every point of contact, making his lover feel every inch of his desire for him. The spray from the shower helped them slide together. He did it harder, and heard and felt the slap of his balls against Clark’s ass. 

His lover moaned softly and Bruce grinded his cock against him.

Clark groaned again. Bruce asked gutturally, “You want my cock?”

Clark glanced back and licked already wet lips. He gazed down at Bruce’s erection. Then without saying anything, he turned around and met his gaze. Then Clark lowered himself down to his knees in front of him and gazed at his cock square on.

Bruce’s cock jerked in response to the sight, and Clark licked his lips again and opened his mouth invitingly.

A rumble echoed from Bruce’s chest and then he leaned forwards, he felt hot breath on the tip of his cock and gasped and swayed back. His lover gaze up at him, his face was full of need and hunger and Clark swayed forward wanting it. 

He growled under his breath and he fed his hard cock to his lover. 

Clark groaned and hummed around the hard flesh as he took it inside his mouth. Bruce closed his eyes in rapture and he ran his hands through his own wet hair. Clark’s tongue played around the head. Bruce opened his eyes, and gazed down and watched the spectacle.

He saw how hard sucking his cock was making Clark’s own length. “You like that don’t you?” Bruce asked huskily. Clark met his gaze intensely. Then Bruce pushed in more, Clark almost gagged but managed to swallow around it. Bruce growled in pleasured surprise, “Fuck!”

Clark pulled away, and Bruce tried to stop him, he ordered passionately, “Take it. Fucking take it.”

His lover licked along his length teasingly, and uttered, “This isn’t a dominance play. I’ll take it because I want it.”

Bruce grinned down at him, and taunted, “You want it?”

He smirked up at him, “Come on, unless you want to be a jerk.”

Clark sat down on his haunches, his position lower down. With a flex of Bruce’s cock, Clark welcomed him inside. As he slid down into his throat, Bruce whinnied, and withdrew and then thrust in again, and then out again. Clark grasped Bruce’s ass and encouraged him as he swallowed his cock over and over. God he loved the feeling of his cock filling up his lover’s mouth. Bruce cried out, and cursed, he cupped Clark’s head, and he fucked his mouth. 

His lover hummed around it. Clark didn’t seem to have the inclination to try to make it last much longer. He was too focused on his task. Bruce cried out. He couldn’t take much more of the divine torture Clark was giving him. So it didn’t take long before a tremor went through Bruce’s body. Clark didn’t pull away; he let him come in his mouth. 

As Bruce recovered and caught his breath, he gazed down and watched with adoration as Clark sucked the head of his cock with tenderness. 

He didn’t even realise until Clark cried out softly that he had been jerking his own cock and gotten off on sucking Bruce’s cock. His lover laid his forehead against Bruce’s stomach, and kissed his wet belly. Bruce reached down and he caressed Clark’s hair tenderly. After a few moments, Clark rose to his feet. When they were face to face, Clark grinned slowly at him, and asked, “Did you like that?”

He panted softly and gazed at Clark’s soft moist lips, and nodded. He leaned in and kissed his mouth that had given him so much pleasure. 

Clark kissed him back and then grinned at him, “I’ve got to get washed now; I do have go to work.”

Bruce nodded. He leaned in and kissed his cheek. He got out of the shower, so Clark could get ready in peace.

~*~

Clark was still in the bedroom, getting ready to go to work, and Bruce was in the kitchen and he was in a flap. He had a pan in one hand and his phone in the other. He was saying, “What do I do now?”

The sage but aggravated voice asked, “Is this necessary, Master Bruce?”

Bruce squirmed, “Yes it’s necessary, my… friend is getting ready to go to work in the bedroom, and I want to make breakfast.”

Alfred sounded shocked, “Work… uh you do not usually entertain… I mean to say they don’t usually have regular jobs.”

He grumbled, “Well this one is special.”

“She must be.”

He winced, “He is.”

“Oh… oh right then. Let’s get to work, tell me what is in the refrigerator.”

He smiled at Alfred’s unruffled composure. He switched on hands-free and put the phone on the kitchen island. Then he opened the fridge and looked inside. “We have… eggs, lettuce, an onion, some cheese, some sausages, milk, orange juice, mushrooms…” he spotted some flour in a caddy near the fridge, “We have flour, so maybe I could make some pancakes…”

Alfred sighed loudly, “Let’s not get too optimistic, Master Bruce. Let’s stick to the way of least mess. Now you say we have eggs?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, is your gentleman friend, is he… would you say he is on a fitness regime?”

“Oh… well…” he thought about Clark’s ‘super’ physique, but then thought about his powers, he edged, “…he looks after himself but I doubt he’s on a strict diet.”

“Very well, we can leave the yolks in then, um is this man a…” 

Alfred came to a halt and Bruce asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Um sir, would you say he’s a… would you say he has a hardy constitution?”

Bruce grinned at the phone, “You can say that again.”

“Sir?”

He revealed, “He’s a farm boy.”

“Oh right, oh you’re not in the countryside right now are you?”

“No I’m in Metropolis.”

“Oh.”

“Alfred, the breakfast, come on.”

“Are you sure you have permission to use his groceries.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “If it’s for him I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Very well… a farmer’s son… so I would say a mushroom and sausage omelette will do.”

“I don’t want him to make do.”

“He shan’t Master Bruce; your young man will have the best omelette Bruce Wayne ever made.”

Bruce sucked in an uneasy breath, “Okay where do I start?”

~*~

He’d disassembled bombs, designed super computers but assembling an omelette for his boyfriend was one of the most nerve racking endeavours he’d ever faced. He asked desperately, “Now, you want me to flip it over now?”

“Only one half, over the other…” Alfred coaxed.

He’d just managed it as Clark entered. Bruce glanced over his shoulder and saw Clark was fully dressed in his suit and tie. His lover raised an eyebrow at the mess his kitchen was in. Clark asked light-heartedly, “What are you doing to my kitchen?”

Bruce murmured, “Hey.”

On the kitchen island, from Bruce’s cell phone Alfred’s voice demanded, “Keep an eye on the frying pan; don’t let it burn after all this effort.”

Clark’s gaze darted to the phone and Bruce’s darted to the pan. He said to Alfred, “I think it’s ready.”

“Are you sure, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked gingerly.

Bruce stared at the omelette unsure, and then Clark approached him and looked over his shoulder at the cooking omelette. Clark said to Alfred, “It is ready.”

There was silence from Alfred, and then he cleared his throat, “Very well sir, I hope you enjoy our combined efforts. I shall say goodbye then.”

He called out, “Wait, Alfred don’t hang up.” He took the pan off the heat and slid the omelette onto a plate. Then he offered it to Clark shyly, “I made you breakfast.”

Clark smiled with affection and amusement, “Thank you.”

Then Bruce returned his attention to his phone. He said, “Alfred say hello to my friend Clark.”

Alfred’s tone was strained but he said, “Hello sir.”

Bruce smiled and then he said, “Clark this gentleman is my guardian Alfred Pennyworth.”

Clark’s eyes widened and then he regained his composure. “Hello Mr Pennyworth. It’s nice to meet… oh I mean…” 

Alfred chuckled softly, “I understand what you mean. It is a pleasure to meet someone so important to Mister Wayne.” 

Bruce and Clark locked gazes, it was embarrassing, but he couldn’t deny the words. At the silence, Alfred continued, “I will let you enjoy your breakfast sir.”

Clark’s eyes were still locked with his as he said to Alfred, “Bye Mr Pennyworth.”

He concurred, “I’ll see you when I get home Alfred.” and then he switched off the phone.

Then he motioned to the plate, “Are you going to eat it?”

His boyfriend nodded, and got himself a knife and fork. Bruce watched closely as Clark cut a piece and then tried his eggy concoction. Clark chewed it thoughtfully for a moment. He reached for the salt, and sprinkled some on and then tried another bit. He swallowed it and then he glanced around the kitchen, and then at the phone on the island. He asked, “You don’t normally cook do you?”

Bruce winced, “No not really.”

Clark cut another piece, and then lifted the fork up towards Bruce, “Try it.” He tried to shy away, but his boyfriend insisted, “Try it.”

Bruce cringed and then accepted it as Clark fed him the forkful of his own cooking. He chewed it as Clark watched him. It tasted okay to him, however not to belittle Alfred’s wonderful cooking, but after his years of hard living in Asia and going without, most things were palatable to him now. He shrugged, “It’s okay isn’t it?”

Then Clark’s bright smile blossomed, as he told him, “It’s nice Bruce.”

He sighed in relief, “Good.”

Then Clark continued eating, he said between bites, “Why don’t you make yourself one?”

He had to be getting back to Gotham, back to his mission before it became time for another ‘date’. He glanced at Clark’s ready for work appearance, “I haven’t got time have I?”

Clark smiled. He put down his knife and fork, and went to the sideboard near the front door. He picked up something from a drawer. He returned and then offered something. Bruce opened his hand and Clark dropped a spare key into his palm. Bruce was shocked, “You’re giving me a key to your apartment.”

“You can have some breakfast and lock up after you.”

He swallowed and wondered, “You want me to put it in your mailbox as I leave?”

Clark frowned, “No. It’s for you.”

He said in awe inspired discomfort, “You don’t really know me...”

His boyfriend picked up his fork and continued to eat his omelette. He shrugged, “I know what I need to.” At Bruce’s look of disbelief, Clark explained, “I know what you do with most of your time, the good you do with little credit. I know you’ve got the store of Kryptonite, had it for a year, and never thought of using it against me.” 

He stated appalled, “I’d never do that…” he swallowed hard, “unless…”

Clark nodded understandingly, “I know.” He motioned to the phone. “I know that part of you thinks of himself as being a Pennyworth.” 

Bruce arched a brow and puckered his lips. He wasn’t sure about that assessment. 

Clark ignored his reaction, “I know that you’re incredible in bed.” he grinned, “I know you like me enough to ask me to go steady with you and to adjust your life to spend time with me and to attempt to cook me breakfast.”

Bruce stared at him, and then ducked his head bashfully.

“I get the impression that if you wanted to break into my apartment not having a key wouldn’t stop you.”

He shrugged, and nodded at the truth of that statement.

His boyfriend stood up, he collected his overcoat from the coatrack. He slipped it on and then he came over and he kissed him goodbye softly. Then he covered Bruce’s hand with the key in it with his. He told him, “That’s your key.”

He watched Clark head for the door. Clark reached for his glasses from the sideboard near the door and slipped them on his face. He met his gaze again through the lenses and smiled warmly. “I’m looking forward to your next visit, Mr Pennyworth.” 

He watched him leave and Bruce gazed down at the key in his palm. It was a symbol of their connection; it was a symbol of Clark’s faith and his acceptance of him. Bruce just hoped he could do justice to it.

 

The end of Converse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Series continues next week


End file.
